


Dark Horse

by ritastyxx (jackiesjunkie)



Series: A Broken Hallelujah [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Homophobic Language, Original Character - Freeform, Transphobia, purposeful misgendering, switching names mid story, switching pronouns mid story, transgender character, transphobic language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22085245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackiesjunkie/pseuds/ritastyxx
Summary: Crowley witnesses a kid come out as transgender & get rejected by their parents. Crowley understands rejection. He won't stand for it. You can’t do that to the kids.
Series: A Broken Hallelujah [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589461
Comments: 6
Kudos: 63





	Dark Horse

**Author's Note:**

> As mentioned in the tags, be warned of transphobic/homophobic language, transphobia, homophobia, purposeful misgendering, switching pronouns mid story, switching names mid story. The father in the story doesn't deserve a name because he's an asshole. 
> 
> Many thanks to Misha for looking over this & pointing out my American mistakes.

_So if you're ever lost and find yourself all alone  
I'd search forever just to bring you home_

Crowley had been wandering around Kensington for the better part of the afternoon. Between temporarily redirecting traffic just before rush hour started & some harmless pranks on the shoppers trying to get all of their Christmas shopping finished, he had been able to keep himself amused. He was leaning back against the brick wall of a shop front wondering if he should call it a day when a conversation nearby caught his attention. A family was standing in front of a shop display with the father pointing out a rather smart looking suit to the teenager with him. Crowley squinted from behind his glasses. He could pick up the unease in the teenager from here. 

Curiosity got the better of him and all it took was a whispered suggestion in the mother’s ear as he passed by for her to suggest they get a bite to eat before they headed home. Crowley followed them to a small pub nearby and ordered a glass of wine as he watched the conversation unfold further.

The teenager was picking at the plate of fish and chips in front of them, the father obviously unimpressed by the state of his child’s clothing and hair if his remarks were anything to go by. 

“I don’t see why you won’t even try. You’re nearly a grown man and you refuse to clean up your act or take responsibility for the way you look. What is your grandmother going to say when she arrives? I’ve been telling you to get a proper haircut for a month! If you don’t arrange it yourself, I’ll have to buzz it off myself. Don’t think I won’t, young man. Just look at yourself. You look like something out of an American trailer park or one of those terrible reality shows. When I was your age, I had a full time job as well as school. Even your older brother started working before he finished school. Where’s your motivation? Do you think you’re going to live with your mother and myself for the rest of your life? You need to be a man and quit expecting other people to take care of you.” The father paused his ranting long enough to stab a piece of his steak and shovel it into his mouth.

The mother reached across the table to pat her husband’s other hand. “There, there, dear. No need to get all upset. Darius is still a boy, he just needs a little encouragement in the right direction.”

Darius slouched further into the chair. His shoulder length hair slipped forward into his eyes. “I just don’t like suits, father. I don’t see why I can’t wear something a little more… casual for Grandmother’s visit during Christmas.”

“Casual?!” the father growled toward his son. “What did you have in mind? Blue jeans and a tee shirt like those American kids you insist on hanging around? Or maybe something see through and glittery like that pansy friend of yours? Maybe you’re just a pansy too and that’s what the problem is.” The venom in his voice was enough to make the boy draw further into himself. 

“Dear, this isn’t the time nor the place,” the mother started.

“I’m not a pansy,” the boy muttered. “I like girls.”

“And what proof do we have of that? How many girls have you fancied? For that matter, what kind of girl would fancy someone like you? You probably wouldn’t even know what to do if a girl offered herself to you.”

The level of scarlet on Darius’s face grew with each word his father spewed at him. “Can we not talk about this in public?” His eyes darted around the pub, measuring the distance from his seat to the entrance.

“What’s the matter, boy? Going to cry like a girl hiding behind your mother’s skirt? Maybe we should just let you have your mother’s old skirts since you obviously aren’t enough of a man to wear anything else.”

Darius huffed at the suggestion, refusing to look his father in the eye. “Could be worse,” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that?” Each word pointedly snarled at him.

Darius slowly turned to look over his father’s shoulder. He wasn’t looking directly at Crowley, just in that general direction. “I’d rather be in a skirt.”

Crowley’s grip on his wine glass tightened as he listened. He knew there was no way this night was going to end well for Darius. He could feel the rage coming off the father in waves. It wasn’t right for a parent to treat their child the way he could sense Darius’s father treated him.

Darius’s father gripped his fork and steak knife until his knuckles were white from the strain. “Are you telling me, boy that you’re a fucking tranny? Is that what you’re saying? You want some doctor to give you tits and cut off your dick?”

“Transgender. Not tranny.” His voice was barely above a whisper. 

Pointing directly at Darius’s face with his steak knife in his shaking hand, Darius’s father ended the conversation. “I will not have a fucking tranny living under my roof. Don’t bother trying to come home. You have no place there.” Shoving back his chair hard enough for it to tip over, he roughly pulled his wife from her chair as he stormed out the door. 

Crowley’s wine glass shattered in his hand. A quick miracle assured that no one noticed and the wine splashed on the table was no longer in existence. He looked back over at Darius who was starting to look more pale than flushed. He watched as the teen quietly pushed back from the table and started for the door. Crowley miracled the memories of the other pub patrons so the scene was forgotten and followed. For nearly a mile, he followed Darius until they reached the bridge crossing The Long Water into The Serpentine. 

Darius was staring across the water toward the Peter Pan statue even though it wasn’t visible from the bridge. The pain and sorrow radiating off of him was enough that Crowley was surprised the humans they had passed hadn’t been able to pick up on it. He paused when he got near to the teen. A typical demon would probably take this opportunity to tempt the child into something drastic, like jumping into the water or in front of a passing vehicle. Crowley was far from a typical demon. And he had always had a soft spot for the kids, even when they were closer to adulthood than childhood. Plus he knew the pain of a parent’s rejection better than anyone.

“You ok?” Crowley mentally smacked himself. Of course the kid wasn’t ok. “Sorry, but I couldn’t help but overhear the conversation back in the pub.” 

Darius gave him a suspicious look. “You following me?”

“Nah, my car’s on the other side of the bridge. Just going the same way.” Technically it wasn’t a lie. Granted, the Bentley hadn’t been there a few minutes ago but who was counting miracles tonight? “You want to talk about it?” he asked gently.

Darius looked back out over the water. “Nothing to talk about. Went how I figured it would. At least being in a public place, he didn’t try to hit me when he found out.”

Crowley nodded. “Parents don’t always get it when their kids don’t fit their expectations. I kind of know what you’re going through. My… Mother hasn’t spoken to me since… well, I was hanging out with the wrong crowd, trying to figure out who I was, and she didn’t like being questioned. She threw me out.” 

The bitterness in Darius’s voice was thick as he asked, “Did you ever get called a fucking tranny?”

“No.” Crowley decided a little more truth wouldn’t hurt. “I am genderfluid, falls under the trans umbrella. It’s been a while though since I presented as female on a regular basis.” He didn’t mention that he could match his Effort with whatever gender he was feeling closer to at any given moment. The kid wasn’t ready for that kind of information.

Darius looked up at him with an expression of **holy shit someone who gets it**.

“There’s nothing wrong with you kid. It doesn’t matter what he says.” Switching gears, he asked, “You have a place where you can go tonight?” 

Darius shrugged. “Dunno. I’ll find a tube station or something to sleep in.”

Crowley frowned. That just wouldn’t do. While he could easily miracle up a place for the kid to stay, he knew it wasn’t a long term solution. “I know someone who may be able to help. A group of young people around your age. A lot of them are… non-conforming you might say.” He grinned down at Darius. “You up for meeting them?”

Darius gave Crowley a look bordering on hopeful. “You don’t think it’ll be an issue?”

“Nah, we’ll make sure you have a safe place to go. Now do you have preferred prounouns? And what name should I use for you?”

Darius started breathing a little easier. “Female pronouns would be amazing. I’ve only been able to use them online so far. As for a name…” 

Crowley waited patiently. Picking a new name wasn’t the easiest thing. Revealing a private name was even harder. 

“Lily. You can call me Lily.” 

Crowley offered his hand. “It is my pleasure to meet you Lily. You are a brave young woman to stand up to your father the way you did.” 

“He’s not my father any more.” Lily shook her head. “I don’t have any family any more.”

Crowley leaned against the railing and gazed down at the water below. “I know what being rejected by family feels like. I understand all too well the feeling of wandering through life alone.” 

Lily’s voice was barely above a whisper when she asked, “How do you do it without anyone? Without any family?”

A smile crept over his face as he thought about a certain angel in a bookshop in Soho. “You make your own family.” Crowley pulled out his phone and hit the button programmed with Aziraphale’s number. “Hey, it’s me. Can you call Jae and get them to meet us at the bookshop? I have someone in need of their particular skills.” He listened a moment. “Of course I’ll introduce you. You’ll think she’s a delight. Be there soon.”

Lily smiled at Crowley’s easy transition to using female terms and the name she had chosen to share with him. 

“Come on kid, I’ll give you a ride. I’ve got a friend who lives just over in Soho and he’s got a group of young people who are constantly hanging out in his bookshop who I think you’ll fit in with, no problem. Jae knows all kinds of people and they will be able to get you a safe place to say, a job more than likely if you need it, school related stuff. They know it all. They run Pride events and could probably convince the Queen Mother to fly a rainbow flag in every window of Buckingham Palace if they put their mind to it.” 

Lily stared at Crowley as if what he was saying was too good to be true. But the chance of acceptance from strangers was better than the response she had gotten from her parents. Lily nodded. “Ok. Thank you.”

Crowley motioned toward the other end of the bridge where the Bentley sat waiting. If Hell was to ever ask, he would just say he was helping to keep the family from reuniting and messing with the gender binary. Because really, he was. He just knew that it was better to keep the kid from a parent that hated them for who they were rather than playing nice and pretending to be an obedient son. 

If he pretended he wasn’t talking about his own story, well. No one had to know.

**Author's Note:**

> I picked a London neighborhood that wouldn't be too far from Soho & Mayhill & poked around on Google maps for a few "landmarks" for the story. 
> 
> Song on repeat while I wrote: I'd Come For You by Nickelback. I kind of hate it when a song fits perfectly but I dislike the band members.


End file.
